


Thank Hephaestus

by theagetoforget



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Professor Castiel, Social Anxiety, Soldier Dean Winchester, Very Quickly Falling, War, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theagetoforget/pseuds/theagetoforget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean pulled away from normal life after a scaring experience in the war, refusing contact with other people.</p><p>That is until he comes across Castiel, a professor trapped on the side of the road with a faulty car, and very quickly makes an exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank Hephaestus

Bouncing on the balls of his feet to ready himself for the onslaught of cold air, Dean pushed open his front door, setting his earbuds in place and cranking up the classic rock. He started his run, shivering a bit in the frigid weather, quickly settling into an easy pace, traveling along the dirt drive littered with brown, crackling leaves. He set himself on his typical route, up his drive, onto the cracked pavement of the highway used by almost nothing but Dean and his Baby (an extremely well taken care of 1967 Chevy Impala) and back into the woods along hunting trails that lead straight back home.

Soon he reached the small highway, the sound of his pounding shoes increasing from the crunch of leaves and small pebbles to a much firmer sound as he crossed onto it. The cold air stung his lungs, but the burn it created had become almost pleasurable in the way that it distracted him from his thoughts. Dean focused on this, the slap of his feel on the ground and the energetic, loud music, all of it keeping him from remembering. Remembering the pain... the screams... the way the knife felt pressed against his skin...

Frantically Dean returned his concentration to his distractions, just in time to look up and see a car resting on the side of the road and a man with his back to Dean, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. It seemed that the guy was just staring at his car as his breath billowed around his dark head, not moving at all to attempt to fix whatever the problem was. Even from where he was standing, a good few meters away, Dean could see the tremor of the man shivering.

Dean knew he should offer his help up to the man, but there was a reason he had withdrawn into his home in the woods far FAR away from people and their callous attitudes. More than anything in that moment, he wanted to keep running and escape confrontation with his anxiety.

But the guy just looked so helpless.

So Dean geared himself up ad jogged over to him, faking nonchalance as he ripped his earbuds out and wrapped them around his fingers before tucking them into his pocket. "Hey man, are you okay?"

The guy snapped his head around, looking completely shocked to see another human being. 

"Uh sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Dean apologized, raising up his hands to seem less threatening as he moved closer towards the stranger. He began to slow but abruptly stopped when he finally got a good look at the guy.

His eyes were the first thing Dean noticed. They were a blue that gave you the feeling that you were flying, made even more shocking by the messy dark hair and scruff lining a sharp jaw. Prominent cheekbones framed those amazing eyes, and the cloud of breath around his head made him look like an angel.

When the man spoke, Dean felt like he had been shaken out of a trance. He'd seem some stunning guys, but this one... 

"Thank you sir, I am in need of assistance. You just startled me." His rough voice only furthered the extreme attraction Dean was feeling, and he had to force himself back to the matter at hand. "It seems that my car has stopped."

"Motor troubles?"

"I am the furthest from educated in those matters, I am completely unable to tell you what is wrong with my vehicle," came the reply in speech patters that made Dean stare even more. It was if the man had pulled the sentences straight out of a dictionary. 

Again, Dean mentally shook himself, "well lucky for you, I worked as a mechanic in high school." He forced his eyes from Blue Eyes (as Dean had taken to calling him) and headed towards the car, an old Lincoln Continental. He pulled the hood open and leaned down, beginning to examine the parts for any sign of the reason of the breakdown. Blue Eyes followed him and leaned over his shoulder, close in a way that should be uncomfortable.

"Thank Hephaestus for you," the guy murmured to himself.

Dean paused, the name sounding vaguely familiar but his brain unable to figure out why. "What did you just say?"

Blue Eyes laughed and stepped back. I said 'thank Hephaestus for you'. He's the Greek god of blacksmiths. craftsmen, metals and the like. I suppose he would also cover the occupation of mechanics nowadays." Dean just stared, his expression obviously one of confusion, leading to another laugh and a hand extended towards him. "Castiel Novak, professor of mythology and religion."

"Uh, Dean Winchester," he replied, taking the hand offered to him. Blue ey- Castiel's-Dean corrected himself- hands were freezing and Dean had to fight off the urge to take them in his own and rub warmth into them. 

Aaaannnddd he was staring again. 

Quickly Dean turned back to the car and asked Castiel to start it so that he could listen for the disturbance. When he did, the only thing Dean heard was a hopeless sputtering and he knew Cas would find himself stuck in Dean's company for longer than he had hoped. 

"I'm sorry Castiel," he said, the word feeling odd on his tongue " but I think we're going to have to push this sucker to my house so I can get a better look."

Castiel tilted his head in a way that Dean marked down as endearing, and nodded. He squinted and moved to the open the drivers door, "I suppose I should steer while you push?"

"Yeah, just roll that window down so you can hear me."

"Of course, Dean." And Dean even liked the way his name sounded in that gravely voice. His mind began to wander, wondering what other sounds from that throat he would like to hear...

Mentally Dean shook himself, banishing those thoughts. Castiel was just some stranger that needed his car fixed so he could get back to his fancy college professor job. Dean was just a way to get that done, nothing more. He positioned himself to push and called up to Castiel to shift into neutral and do a sharp turn back to the gravel drive. After he heard a quick confirmation, he began to push, a small "oof" escaping him.

Very slowly the two managed to get the car turned around and back on track, Castiel climbing out to help push after by bracing one hand on the frame of the still open window and keeping the other on the wheel. They progressed a bit quicker then, the silence between them stretching as Dean wracked his mind for something to say to get past it.

"So, uh, Castiel. How'd you get into the whole 'mythology and religion professor thing?" he asked, grasping onto the little piece of knowledge he held on the professor. Small talk was really all he had in him.

Castiel looked back at him curiously before returning his focus to the road. "It's not a particularly interesting story, Dean."

"Depends on how you see it, man."

The other man stopped and turned back to look at him. Surprised, Dean stopped as well and straightened up. "What do you mean by that?"

Dean self consciously shifted and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Well I guess I just mean that people tend to think only action packed stories are interesting, you know? I think its more about the reason behind telling a story or what the story is to the person telling it is what's important." Dean stopped to see Castiel again had his head tilted, and was looking at him with a small smile. 

"I like that." 

Dean found himself trying not to stare at the way his lips curled upwards in the adorable half smile fighting it until Castiel turned back around and got ready to push again. Dean snapped back to attention and slowly the car gained more momentum as Castiel began to speak. 

"My family was always extremely religious, and in my youth you could count me among them. The church and its needs were before everything. I grew up a firm believer in it all, for there was no reason to cause any doubt. But one day in school we began to learn about the Greeks and their way of life. The idea of a society living without believing in anything but God as I knew Him was staggering, to say the least. It didn't make sense that a society could be successful under Gods will if they believed in something other than him. Slowly that thought wormed its way into my devotion and became a more... besetting interest. On my own I began to research other societies and their religions, and I quickly lost my parents support as I fell from my utter faith. I had no need for them to build my future for me, and I set myself to studying endlessly until I reached my goal." He glanced back at Dean, the small smile still lingering. "Not many know that story, but I suppose that's because they don't ask."

Dean grinned at the thought of being considered special by Castiel. "Well I'm glad I asked then. Told ya the story would be interesting."

"Thank you, Dean," and Dean could have sworn he saw Castiel turn to hide a blush. "How about you?"

"I... uh..." That gave Dean a pause. Something about Castiel made him want to spill his guts about his... unpleasant past. But there were many reasons why he wouldn't do that, and he decided a brief, undetailed summary would suffice. "Most of my childhood was spent with my Uncle Bobby, working on cars. My Dad wasn't around much, and he had a tendency to drop my brother and I off there. Working on those cars with Bobby became everything to me, and I gained a passion for it, though i didn't do anything about it after Sam went off to college. When he left, I decided to join the military. Served overseas for a while." He paused his glossed over story to direct Castiel down the dirt drive that was quickly approaching, then finished with a quick "and now I live out here."

Castiel remained silent as he maneuvered the Lincoln down the road, seeming to be considering what to say in return. Dean panicked, suddenly struck that maybe even his little blurb of his life had been too dark to share with the stranger. The last thing he wanted was the professor’s pity. Luckily, his worry was erased when Castiel took in the area around them and replied "Well it certainly seems peaceful out here."

As he let out a sigh of relief, Dean smiled out towards the leafless trees. "Definitely is, man."  
The two fell into silence, not completely uncomfortable, but not companionable either. Dean then became aware of his cold stiffened fingers and frigid ears. His breath swelled into the freezing air, ad he found himself watching its gradual dissipation after each exhale to entertain himself through the silence. 

When his little cabin came into view, Castiel smoothly wiped away the quiet with his rough voice, "Is that it, Dean?"

"Yep, we'll push this baby into the garage then get you warmed up." He knew that they both would welcome a respite from the cold, Castiel especially, seeing the way the guy locked onto the cabin in anticipation. The car slowed to the stop as they arrived by the garage and Dean moved around to pull the door up. Once it was open, they pushed the Lincoln the last few feet and smiled at each other in quiet celebration. Dean broke away and closed the garage door then led Castiel into the house. When the heat of the house ran over him, Dean sighed in relief, glancing over to Castiel. The other man looked extremely relieved to be indoors, and Dean realized he must be freezing with the light trench coat and suit being the only protection from the warmth. It became very obvious how hard Castiel was trying to suppress shivers.

"Dude, you must be freezing. Come on, I'll get a fire going." Dean led him into the living room and quickly placed logs into the fireplace and lighting them. He watched the fire blaze into life before turning back to Castiel to make sure he had settled in beside it, only to be affronted yet again with the man's beauty. The light from the fire flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp features in the perfect way. Dean forced his gaze away and retreated towards the back hallway, intending to grab some blankets to help warm the now openly shivering form. As he left, he threw "Hey Castiel, don't worry about your car, I'll get that taken care of. Just focus on getting warm," over his shoulder and grabbed a few of the heavier blankets he kept stored in the hallway closet. He headed back towards Castiel and awkwardly put the blankets on the floor beside him, thinking it would be a bit inappropriate to wrap him up himself. Castiel looked up and smiled in thanks before wrapping the blankets around his shoulders, and Dean decided he could now go change and start to work on the car.

Once his bedroom door swung shut, Dean quickly threw off his running gear in favor of the typical plaid flannel over t-shirt look paired with worn jeans. His mind, in spite of his attempts to keep it from it, continuously traveled back to the beautiful stranger wrapped up in his living room. Of all the people in the world, it had to be the adorably awkward guy with the strange name and the eyes that you had to fight falling into every time you looked at him. The one person in the world that didn't cause Dean automatic discomfort, and he couldn't keep him. 

Now fully dressed, Dean had no reason not to rejoin Castiel and head to fix the car that would send him on his way. He would be thankful to be left alone to his own devices, away from people and society, right where he belonged.

Grabbing his boots as he headed out the door, Dean headed out towards the guy who caused him all this confusion. As he walked towards Castiel, he opened his mouth to inform him of the plan, but as soon as he saw Castiel curled up looking like not much more than a pile of blankets, he closed it. Dean lingered on the edge of the room, wondering if he was sleeping, but his question was answered as soon as he heard a soft snore from the form. He grinned and quickly retrieved a pillow off of one of the couches, then headed outside, his boots still in hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As Dean reentered the house a while later, he considered his mixed feelings towards his discovery that Cas's (when did he start calling him that?) car was in worse shape than he thought. A few parts would have to be replaced, meaning Dean would have to go into town tomorrow. Which also meant that Cas would have to stay. 

Oddly, Dean found himself not opposing this thought, almost happy that he would have to remain in Castiel's company in spite of his aversion to strangers. Though he wasn't sure how he would handle having someone around since he had basically lost all ability to interact with people for an extended period after withdrawing into himself after the war. He'd seen too much bloodshed to really trust others.

Especially after Alastair.

Dean kicked his boots off by the door and quietly padded into the living room where Cas sat, wrapped in his blankets. Castiel watched him as Dean walked over and settled in over by the fire beside him and extended his hands towards it, warming his fingers. As he did this, Dean searched for the right words too say to break the news to Cas that he would be stuck with him, but before he could, Castiel spoke.

"Thank you very much Dean, it is incredibly kind of you to help me so much."

Dean blushed a bit, and looked over at Cas in the corner of his eye. Cas had shifted to face him, blankets pooled around him in a sort of nest, and yet again Dean was struck by how adorable the other man was. "It's nothing, Cas," he replied as he turned to face him. He saw a small change in expression as Castiel registered the nickname but no opposition, so Dean decided to stick with it. It was much easier to say than Castiel anyway. "I'm sorry to break it to you, Cas," Dean began, liking the feel of the nickname on his lips, "but it seems you'll be stuck here with me for a while." He watched Cas's face for any despair but to his relief, found none. "You can stay in the extra room, I promise I'll get you on your way ASAP."

Suddenly Dean was wrapped in an embrace. It took him a second to react, but he slowly responded with a gentle squeeze. He knew it was odd to be hugged by a virtual stranger, but he found himself enjoying the feeling of the fire warmed body against his. 

Cas pulled away, a big smile painted across his face that Dean subconsciously returned. "You really don't have to, Dean. But I am very grateful that is was you who came along."

"Me too," Dean responded, standing up and offering a hand to Cas. As he pulled him up, Dean told him "follow me," then headed off to the guest room. He stood aside as Cas entered the room, and noticed that the guy was still stuck in that suit. "Hey, Cas. I can loan you something more comfortable to sleep in if you want," he said looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table that read 8:30. A bit early for bed, but Dean was exhausted.

"I would appreciate that, Dean. Thank you." Dean turned and retrieved some pajamas from his room, grabbing whatever was on top of the pile in his drawer. He strode back to Castiel only to come to a stop immediately after entering the room, stunned. 

Cas had stripped from the waist up and was standing with his back turned to Dean, looking down at his phone. Dean stared at the prominent muscles in his arms and back, licking his lips nervously. God, he wanted to touch, but instead he awkwardly cleared his throat to get Cas's attention. Cas turned, not a lick of embarrassment in his features, and walked towards Dean to retrieve the clothes. Dean only watched in silence, trying to break his stare but God.... Cas was too much. All he wanted was to rub his hands against the smooth skin and feel the way those muscles moved, but instead he croaked out a quick "Goodnight" and retreated to his room, denying to himself what that moment had done to him. He flopped onto his bed as soon as he got to it and pressed his face into the well worn bedspread. 

Why did Cas have to so damn attractive?

Dean quickly changed and settled into bed, deciding that distracting TV would do him some good. He needed to get his mind off of Castiel. The guy was going to leave in a few days, no matter how much Dean wanted to get him into his bed. He turned Doctor Sexy with the intent of watching a few episodes then going to sleep. Maybe the guy's cowboy boots would knock Castiel from his mind. 

But exhaustion caught up with him, and halfway into an episode, he was out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean stirred when the sun leaked through the blinds and cast long shadows across his room. He rubbed his face and blinked tiredly at the TV screen, momentarily confused by the fact that it was still on before remembering the disks replay function. Slapping around his bed for the remote, Dean suddenly remembered the guest he had just a wall away. He bolted upright, flicking the TV off and climbing out of bed. 

"Oh God.." he moaned, unsure of how to handle the whole 'extremely attracted to the guy in the room next door' thing. Maybe ignoring it would do the trick. As he contemplated his predicament, his stomach rumbled in protest. "Damn, okay," he answered, exiting his room and heading towards the kitchen. Pancakes sounded like the best idea in the world in that moment, so he began to pull out the ingredients. After he mixed the batter, he walked over to his coffee machine, needing something to knock out the fuzzy feeling that lingered after sleep. As he started to ready the machine, he wondered if Cas would want any. 

Unable to know for sure, he made enough for the both of them. The extra coffee could go to waste if it wasn't wanted. 

Dean then started preparing the pancakes, getting through quite a few before the machine beeped. He looked over at it, then back up, just in time to see Cas shuffle his way into the kitchen like the noise had summoned him. His hair stuck up every which way and Dean's clothes fit him loosely, but Dean was staring all the same, enjoying the sight of the seemingly well put together man looking a bit rough. It suited him extremely well and when Cas stretched Dean caught a delicious flash of skin. 

Quickly he switched his gaze back to the pancakes, beginning his denial plan.

It very soon backfired when Cas grunted "Coffee?" in a voice even more gravely than before. His mind stalled for a second before he snapped himself back into reality and gestured over to the pot on the other side of the kitchen.

"Over there."

Cas grumbled his thanks and moved towards it, causing Dean to remember the need for a mug to drink coffee. He flipped the last pancake onto a plate and headed over to grab one for Cas. When he reached his side, he expected the other man to move over so Dean could grab what he needed, but instead he remained in place as Dean reached over and around him to grab two mugs from the cabinet above them. Their bodies pressed together and Dean fumbled with the cups as he pulled them out and placed them on the counter. He stepped back and motioned to the still open cabinet.

"Sugar and stuff is in there," he mumbled, trying to hide his blush. He poured himself some coffee and decided that black would be fine, as long as he escaped from that awkward. He returned to the pancakes and grabbed one of the two he had set aside and sat down at the kitchen table, Cas following and settling in the seat across from him.

He really didn't understand why he was so attracted to Cas. Usually he had stuck to girls, though he had been known to stray to a few men, but Castiel was something entirely different. He barely knew the guy yet he wanted him. He wanted to be able to run his hands through that mess of dark hair, to wrap his arms around his waist and bury his face into that neck. To feel the way those full lips would feel against his, and taste that tongue licking a drop from his bottom lip...

Mentally Dean shook himself, trying to get rid of the thoughts. He forced himself to focus on the pancakes, but decided that he should probably learn more about the object of his desire. Maybe something about him would make it disappear. 

"So Cas, what brought you into this neck of the woods?" Dean almost cringed at his attempt at small talk, but Cas seemed undisturbed. So undisturbed that he didn't even answer, just stared into his mug. Dean shook his head to himself, wondering if he somehow offended the guy. "You don't have to answer man, just trying to make conversation."

Castiel looked up with a confused look on his face. "Oh no, you are not bothering me. I'm just not much of a morning person." He paused and took a sip of the coffee, seeming to treasure it. "I supposed I just felt like getting away. My family is not the most pleasant company, especially not all gathered, like on the holidays. I created some excuse and decided to just drive somewhere instead of joining their usual mayhem."

Dean picked up the syrup and poured a ridiculous amount onto his pile of pancakes. "Sorry 'bout that, man. Sounds like it sucks." He took a bite, savoring the sweetness that filled his mouth before chewing and cutting another bite.

Cas watched him with a small smile before replying. "There is no reason for you to apologize, Dean. I wanted a break and I took it. I appreciate the sentiment, though." He took a bite of the pancakes as Dean watched, and his eyes widened as he chewed. "These are divine, Dean!" Cas exclaimed, suddenly more animated. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

Dean preened as he cut more pancake for himself. "Little bro had an obsession with the things. I spent a lot of time perfecting them for him." 

Cas glanced up, a huge grin on his face in place of a reply, then continued to shove them him in mouth. Dean smirked to himself, glad to finally see past the perfect and polite facade Cas had up from the start, and let the conversation rest.

They both made quick work of their food and as Dean took the plates to wash them, Cas spoke up.

"That's very nice of you, Dean. Not just the plates of course, but helping to raise your brother." Dean looked up from his task, surprised by the late response. He watched the obviously still out of it Cas return to the coffee pot and refill his mug, adding a bit of cream and sugar. Subconsciously Dean cataloged this away in a tired hope that he would have a chance to use it. 

He turned back to the sink, plugged it and added soap, creating a large pile of bubbles and a pool for the dishes to soak the syrup away. "When my Mom died," he began, glancing towards Cas, "my Dad sort of fell apart. He was out of it a lot, and I quickly picked things up. But really Sammy took as much care of me as I did of him." Dean returned his gaze to the sink and began filling it with the dishes. "It was never a big deal to me. I love my brother, always have." He paused, plan forming as he looked at the bubbles before him. "But enough of that."

Cas' expression changed to confusion and he looked up from his mug just in time to receive a palm-full of bubbles to the cheek. He almost dropped the mug in shock as Dean bent over laughing. "You should see yourself, man. That look of confusion paired with the bubbles sure makes a great mix. Just-" Dean dissolved into giggles, unaware of Cas reaching around him to scoop up a massive handful of bubbles.

"I'm sure it's very humorous, Dean. Though not as much so as this." Castiel retained his flat tone throughout his retaliation plan, leaving Dean completely unprepared for the huge pile of bubbles that came smearing across his face.

"You sneaky bastard," Dean laughed, soon joined by Cas. Their laughter rang through the kitchen, the happiest sound it had heard since Dean Winchester had moved in. 

Once the two of them had ceased laughing, there was a pause from sound and Dean found himself staring at Cas' smiling face and admiring the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. He allowed himself to watch for only a few more seconds before forcing his gaze away to the kitchen floor, again attempting to ignore what he felt. "Castiel is only going to leave you. He has a home, a college to teach at and people who need him," he mentally told himself. Allowing himself to become attached was only another way to get hurt. 

He turned back to the sink and focused on cleaning the dishes, hoping that in some way he could wipe away his feelings like he did the grime on the plates. After finishing, he pretended it had worked, turning to Cas who was cradling another cup of coffee. "Let's go get you some clean clothes," he said, breaking the silence. The professor couldn't stay in Dean's PJ's forever.

Dean moved back towards his room, assuming that Castiel would follow, but turning his head back as he entered the hallway to make sure. Once it was confirmed that Castiel was following, he continued on, pushing his way into his room and pulling open his closet. When Cas entered the room, mug now abandoned, Dean gestured to the open closet. "Just grab something that you think would fit." and stepped back.

Cas stepped forward, running his fingers along the edges of the shirts as he considered. "I don't know what would fit. Choose something for me," he said without turning. Dean moved towards the clothes as Cas stepped back, confused by the man's request but complying anyway. Flicking through the items, he quickly pulled a shirt and one of his smaller pairs of jeans off of their hangers, trying not to think to much on it. He turned back and tossed the clothes over to Cas, who was again scrutinizing him with that head tilt-squinty eyes combination. Cas clumsily caught the items and turned away throwing a quick "I will go change now," over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Before Cas fully made it out, Dean called out "Hey, Cas!" When Castiel paused outside the door and faced him, Dean immediately began to regret calling out, wondering if his request was a bit too much to ask of the almost stranger. "You... uh could you... would you like to come into town with me?" he stuttered out. "I could use some help." His thinly disguised excuse made him want to hit himself, but Cas either didn't notice or didn't care.

"It would be my pleasure to join you, Dean. Anything to be of help." Cas turned back to head towards his room, leaving Dean smiling gleefully to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Impala roared into the open space by the doors of the hardware store, and the two men climbed out. Dean stalled in place as soon as he closed the car door, the list of items dangling in his grip. The parking lot was mostly empty, but even one felt like too many. He stared into the store window, watching people move through the store, unable to bring himself to move forward to enter. 

Suddenly the list was taken from his hand and Castiel stood in front of him, blocking most of his view of the window. His face was painted with concern.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Dean shook his head in the negative, taking a shuddering deep breath as he attempted to calm himself. He was surprised that he had allowed Cas to see his weakness, but did nothing to change his answer. 

"I would go in for you," Cas said, clearly recognizing the source of Dean's stress, "but I have no understanding of what these objects are and what they do." He reached up and rested his hand on Dean's shoulder, his hand firm and oddly grounding. "You can do this." 

The hand on his shoulder seemed to be holding him together, and Dean weakly smiled at Cas and nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The two navigated the store, Castiel's hand a constant on Dean's shoulder, somehow understanding how much it helped. They gathered the parts as quickly as they could, moving through the store like the devil was after them, and to Dean it almost seemed so. As soon as they had paid, Dean bolted towards the car and basically leaped in, melting into the familiar atmosphere. He heard Cas' door close instead of seeing it, feeling the blue eyes on him. 

And without thinking, Dean was whispering "How did you know?"

Cas sighed, shifting his eyes so they rested on his hands. He seemed to be considering what to say, but then words were pouring out of him. "I had a sister," he began, and Dean automatically knew this story was deeply personal, right from the word 'had'. "She... struggled with an issue similar to yours. Her ability to function in society was basically none from as soon as she was talking. I began to recognized the signs of her panicking, and spent a lot of my extra time as a child researching ways to help her. Anna was only a few years younger than me, and she was all I had, the rest of my siblings were much older. We grew up a bit... rebellious, both of us not wanting our lives run by our parents and older brothers. As we grew, she became worse. I became her caretaker, watching over her, at least until..." 

The next word was left off, but Dean knew exactly what it was. He reached towards Cas and pulled him to his chest. There was no resistance, and soon Cas had his arms wrapped around Dean and his face pressed into his shoulder while he fought off tears. Dean rubbed his back hoping Cas understood that he didn't have to continue, but he did, whispering into Dean's ear. 

"She was admitted into a mental institution, and my world imploded. I was selfish, upset that she had fallen and left me alone to face my family, but as the weeks wore on and the anxiety and depression raged inside her, tearing her apart, I vowed that I would protect her no matter the situation. She did come home convincing the doctors that her brother would always be there for her, and that she would be okay as long as he was there..." Cas sniffled, the memory causing tears he did allow to flow to appear. "And I was. You could always find me at her side... That was until... Until I left." He nuzzled into Dean's shoulder, letting it give him a brief respite from the world before finishing. "I was a stupid kid, and I left her one night to see a friend. When I returned..." Cas trailed off, obviously unable to finish.

Dean was left shell-shocked both by the story and Castiel's willingness to share it, and he clutched onto him tighter. 

"It was my fault, Dean. If I had only stayed, she wouldn't be gone." 

Cas's whisper made Dean pull him back to see his face. He looked helpless, his eyes brighter in color, but darker in emotion, his face red and streaked by a few tears. Dean took his face in his hands and wiped away a tear with his thumb. "No, Cas. That was the fault of the destructive self that was built inside of her. It wasn't your responsibility to save her. Cas placed his hands over Dean's and nodded slightly, then pulled them away. He smiled slightly before turning and staring out the window, indicating that he wished to leave. Reluctantly Dean turned away, and turned the key in the ignition, angry that he couldn't help his grieving friend just because he didn't do feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Days pass as Dean slowly makes progress on the car, Castiel shadowing him most places he went. If he wasn't there, watching and handing tools to Dean, he was tucked into a corner of the couch reading one of the few books Dean had littered around his house. 

One of these days, while Dean cooked, he truly began to understand Castiel's family's wealth when he had to instruct the guy on how to correctly crack an egg. 

"You've never cooked anything for yourself?" he cried incredulously.

"Well of course I have. The food is just usually frozen." 

"There is no way you are leaving here only able to do that. Come here and get your ass in gear, you've got a lot of things to learn."

This proclamation resulted in what became known as The Great Kitchen Disaster. Cas swore the fire was tiny and had posed no danger, which resulted in a yell from Dean that "Every fire is dangerous, Cas!"

An easy friendship developed that, no matter how much Dean denied it, was filled with tension. He could almost feel those lips on his, the long fingers pressing bruises into his skin. 

But he always shook it off as a passing crush that would leave as Castiel did when he returned to his fancy college professor job. That was always how it was meant to be, and Dean treasured what time he kept with Cas, feeling that he could tell the guy anything.

Except for that one thing. That thing that Sam didn't even know everything about, because Dean Winchester doesn't do chick flick moments. 

But of course Cas had to go ask about it. Nothing went Dean's way.

The pair was sitting in the living room, causally discussing one of the Vonnegut books Cas had just finished, when Cas changed the subject suddenly. "Dean," he asked. "Why do you live all the way out here. I know it have something to do with your social anxiety, but the way you speak about your high school years leads me to believe that it was a developed condition and-"

Dean's hopes to avoid this conversation collapsed and he cut Cas off with a snappy "Cas, just don't." 

Cas pushed on in spite of Dean's words of warning, not truly recognizing the meaning of them. "Why, Dean? I feel that our relationship has developed enough that we share most-"

"Castiel! Just shut up!" Dean yelled. "I have a right to privacy and all that shit and we just met a week ago!" He found himself standing, hands clenched at his sides. Castiel should have know better than to ask that of him. That was Dean's problem, the only thing he had set barriers around to yield everyone away. The only thing that was not to be mentioned.

But his rage subsided when he looked into Cas' eyes and noticed the held back tears and fury. He dropped his eyes from the other man, unable to look at him and still refusing to speak, no matter the amount of hurt it caused. It would not be spoken about. 

He heard the blood pounding in his ears from his remainin anger, and therefore barely registered the familiar swish of Castiel putting on his coat, and the sound of his front door slamming. As soon as the door shut, he began to fume storming around the house, pretending not to care about Cas' disappearance. Soon he found himself in the garage, finishing up the little details on the Lincoln that he had been putting off . He wanted-no he needed-Castiel out for good. He finished quickly, fueled by his rage, and slammed the hood down.

He stepped back, and the rage drained out of him as he was thrown back to the day he met the odd owner of the vehicle. He would never have guessed that the shivering man staring at his car, completely at a loss, would become most of what Dean had. 

That's when he allowed himself to realize how much he needed Cas. How he needed the over calculated speech, the bright blue that seemed to see into his soul. He needed that reassuring hand, and he needed to tell Cas how he felt so he would stay.

Dean rushed out of the house, pulling his coat on and hoping that he would find Castiel sulking right around the house somewhere. It had started to snow earlier in the day, and if he didn't see Cas around, he knew that the man would be lost in the woods with the ever repeating trees and unable to come back along paths that were now covered by snow.

And he didn't.

Dean's breath rushed out of his lungs and he had to fight falling to his knees in despair. He yelled his voice hoarse, hoping, praying that he had just over looked him, but this was dashed when he found a set of footprints leading deep into the forest, rapidly melting into the snow. Panic set in as began to run alongside them, determined to find their owner. His luck ran out when he lost them to the snow, but he continued on, determined and knowing that Cas could freeze out in this weather. 

The search lasted for what felt like hours after the prints were lost, and a land of cold whiteness became all Dean knew. He rubbed his hands together, wishing desperately for the gloves left behind, but continuing on. Hope flickered like a flame, slowly dimming to a small spark when Dean came across landmark trees he had passed already, the knowledge that he had searched the woods he knew entirely setting in. He screamed for what he searched, voice far past hoarse, his heart a pounding mess. 

That when he saw him. 

Cas was curled into a ball, thin coat wrapped around him the best he could manage, obviously doing nothing to help. Dean almost choked on a sob at the sight of him reduced to a shivering mess coated in snow.

"Cas,"he cried out, tripping his way to the shivering bundle. He rolled Cas to face him, only to see his eyes clenched closed. "Oh, oh no." Dean scooped him into his arms, watching his face anxiously as he moved towards home. 

The walk seemed endless, but Dean knew these woods in any weather. His feet moved as fast as he could manage with the other man wrapped in his arms, at one point dipping his head so his cheek rested against Cas's. "You'll be okay," he muttered against freezing skin. "You have to be."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean basically kicked the door down as he rushed Castiel over to the fire that had been reduced to mere embers in their absence. He gently set Cas down before running to find every blanket he could and wrapping the ice cold form in them, then fumbling to start the fire. Once it was roaring with heat, Dean turned to the mass of blankets and settled beside Castiel, discovering one hand had escaped from the pile. 

Before he could stop himself, Dean clasped it between his own. The hand was frighteningly cold, and Dean began rubbing whatever heat he could into it. When he over to Cas' face, he saw a small smile on the cracked lips and gratitude in the finally open eyes, giving Dean the confidence to continue his task. 

Time wore on and the fire took the sting off of the cold, allowing Dean to shed his jacket to give more skin the warmth. Castiel had fallen asleep as Dean gently pressed heat into his hand that he still held onto like it was holy. Dean refused to leave his side, only wanting to get closer, and for once, he didn't deny himself.

He could always make the excuse that he was using his body heat to warm Cas.

Before he lost his courage, Dean slipped under the blankets and pulled the still cold body against his chest. Cas' breath puffed across his face, and Dean snuggled in, enjoying the feeling of another's closeness for the first time in years. Sleep quickly overtook him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Dean eased from sleep, he found himself wrapped in warmth and extremely content. He hadn't slept that well in... well, never. He allowed himself to revel in it, nuzzling into Cas' neck. They melded together in ways that made Dean's heart flutter, but he sighed unhappily when he remembered that he would have to let Cas go back to his life, and that he could, his car finished.

He reluctantly untangled himself from the warm confines of Cas, who had octopused around him in his sleep. Cas would never know it had happened, easily moving on and forgetting the poor stranger who had helped the guy stuck on the side of the road.

It was for the best.

First Dean had to apologize and explain his behavior. To start, Dean resolved that pancakes would be good for them both. As he prepared them, he prepped himself for one of the most difficult explanations of his life, watching for Cas to stir anxiously.

When the professor did just that, Dean's heart pounded in his ears, in both fear and excitement. He focused on the pancakes, trying to figure out the best way to phrase his story when Castiel appeared by his side, watching him.

"Like my first day here," he muttered.

Dean flipped around. "I'm so sorry Cas. You told me about your sister and I threw it in your face like it meant nothing to me. I'm sorry. You- you were so cold, I was so scared-"

"Dean." Dean's mouth was left hanging open as Castiel grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "You may have been harsh, but it was me that over stepped my bounds. You are not required to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable."

Dean pulled Cas into a quick embrace before releasing him and answering. "Castiel Novak, you deserve someone much better than me. But I want to tell you." Dean paused, gathering the story anxiously, almost wanting to back out before Cas slipped his hands down Dean's arms to clasp his hands, reassuring him. 

"I think it's best to go to the beginning," he started, pulling away to stack the forgotten pancakes onto the plates. He handed one to Cas and continued. "My Mom died in a fire when I was four, leaving my Dad, brother and I to mourn. Dad took us and ran, the pain from Mom's death destroying him from the inside out. Sam and I grew up separate from normal life, changing schools and losing friends at my Father's whim to run. 

When we were finally old enough to go off on our own and attempt to have normal lives, Sam split for Stanford and I joined the military, unable to watch my Father drink himself into oblivion. 

War was... well war. There were endless amounts of blood that showered us as those around us lost their lives, and relentless screams. This I had managed to handle, for that was life, but I lost myself when Alastair joined my unit.

He was... strange to say the least. Something about him always seemed off, but I befriended the guy since no one else would and I was stuck in the same tent as him." Dean paused, flashes of the war melding with reality, making his heart race. He raised his hands to rub his face, and when he removed them all he saw was Cas. He focused on the man in front of him, mentally steadying himself before speaking again. 

"Alastair had a taste for blood that no one recognized until it was too late. He destroyed the enemies viciously, finding new ways to torture them instead of just killing them... and when that wasn't enough he turned on us in the night. I became his favorite subject, the one he took his knives to the most often. Fear kept us from reporting him, plus we reasoned that a few cuts, no matter how vicious, were better than death. Someone must have gained the courage though, for he was found out and 'taken care of." Dean pulled himself out of the memory and began rubbing his arms where the cuts had been subconsciously. "I returned home, scared but able to live life somewhat normally. At least that's what I convinced myself until I heard about my Dad."

Tears sprung into Dean's eyes and he wiped his face, attempting to hide them. "He had died from a heart attack while I was gone. I was destroyed, and became even more of an unstable disaster. It was about two weeks later that I found myself collapsed on the ground after a fight with two drunk assholes, panicking and trapped in flashbacks. That's when I left for anywhere away from people, they had become nothing but a force of destruction to me. Alone is where I am safe. I have too many demons to allow and normal apple pie life with kids and someone I love."

Dean looked away from Castiel, knowing he had revealed himself as a weak and broken thing, and braced himself for something horrible.

Instead he was wrapped in a hug so full of compassion that Dean almost burst. The two held desperately onto each other, neither wanting to let go.The breakfast remained abandoned even after they mutually pulled apart to look at the other, feeling something there.

Dean's hand came up to cup Cas' cheek, thumb running along his cheekbone. "There's something about you though..." Dean whispered, before breaking off, unable to finish. He wanted to kiss him more than anything but he couldn't force Cas into his fucked up life. He pulled away, making some lame excuse and leaving Cas in the kitchen looking abandoned as he fled to the garage. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean puttered around, avoiding Cas the best he could. The car was finished what felt like long ago, but Dean couldn't bring himself to walk back inside and tell Cas that he could leave, and he already found himself missing the nearness of the shadow Cas had become, and he didn't want to let him go. No, he couldn't, and he would tell him, this time without running away. 

He slowly opened the door, stomach grumbling from his skipped breakfast. He quickly prepped himself a sandwich, making one for Cas as well, hoping it would serve as a peacemaker, and headed off to Cas' bedroom, sure he would find him there. Once he was there though, he only stood and listened to Castiel flip the pages of the most recent book he had pillaged. He could almost see the man on the other side, curled under the blankets and reading to get his mind off of Dean.

"Fuck this," Dean muttered, and pushed through. 

Castiel looked up, positioned exactly as Dean had imagined. "Dean," he said, sounding surprised.

"Cas." Dean settled on the bed beside Castiel and handed him the plate, which he took graciously, and opened his mouth only to be cut off by Cas, who was staring down at his hands anxiously.

"Dean, I'm so sorry for what you went through, it's more than anyone should bear. I know I can't make you pain go away, but I want to try, I want to stay here. I want you, broken or not." Cas looked up from his hands and at Dean's shocked face, waiting for his answer.

Instead of responding, Dean grabbed the plates off of their laps and set them on the floor before turning back to the confused Cas. That cute little head tilt and scrunched eyes combo was back, and it drove him wild. He prayed his actions would be enough and surged forward to press his lips against Cas'.

He felt Cas stiffen in shock but very quickly retaliate, the kiss soft and perfect before heating up and becoming desperate as they tugged at each other closer. Cas opened his mouth to allow tongues to clash, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and swinging his body over to straddle him. Fingers wove into hair and their breathing became ragged. 

Castiel pulled away and rested his forehead against Dean's. "Thank Hephaestus you did that," he breathed, and rejoined their lips. 

Dean laughed against the soft lips. "Thank Hephaestus."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
